


filling in the blanks as we go

by eyeslikestarlight



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - No Prophecy (Final Fantasy XV), Alternate Universe: non-royalty, FFXV Minibang 2019, Fluff, Kind of a slow burn...but not too slow?, M/M, alternating pov, ffxvminibang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikestarlight/pseuds/eyeslikestarlight
Summary: Ignis raised an eyebrow at Prompto’s abundant enthusiasm. “...Indeed. Can I help you?”“Right, yes. I mean, I hope so! That is, uh.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, looking over his shoulder back toward the door. “You know, you don’t have a HELP WANTED sign in your window. But Noct told me you were looking to hire someone?”---------Ignis and Prompto fall in love in a bookstore. That's it, that's the story.
Relationships: Background Noct/Luna - Relationship, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 23
Kudos: 106
Collections: FFXV Minibang 2019





	1. all was golden in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of the 2019 FFXV Minibang, so there's a gorgeous art by the lovely Jayy (@jayysnest on twitter) accompanying it in the final chapter! I have to say, I'm really thankful for this minibang, not only because I got such a beautiful piece of artwork to accompany my fic, but also because it gave me the drive and the motivation to actually write the second-longest work I've ever completed. It's also the first fic I'm posting in over three years, breaking a very long streak of writer's block, and my first Promnis or FFXV fic! I hope I do these wonderful boys justice. Enjoy!

The embossed gold lettering on the book’s worn leather spine had a pleasing texture, one which felt at home beneath Ignis’ fingers. Perhaps even more satisfying was the way it slid neatly into its newfound home on the shelf, a perfect fit between  _ Croce _ and  _ Cruz _ . He moved around to the other side of the row as the bell above the door jingled pleasantly, shelving another new acquisition in the Biography section before looking up to greet the new customer.

The young man at the door was immediately recognizable, though it took a second to recall his name: Noct’s roommate at ISU, Prompto. Ignis knew him through pictures, stories, and the odd encounter, but they’d barely ever exchanged a handful of words to each other. That didn’t stop the blonde from beaming at him as though he were greeting an old friend.

“Good afternoon,” Ignis said politely, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Prompto, right?”

“Wow, you remembered me! I’m impressed. I can barely remember my  _ own _ name.” Prompto looked around curiously as he stepped further inside, running his fingers along a row of books to his right. “Dang, I can’t believe I’ve never come in here before. It’s so cozy!”

“Yes, well. I suppose the campus bookstore and library have all you need.”

“True, true. But hey, there’s nothing like the charming atmosphere of a little independent bookshop like this one! Libra Elementia—even the name is charming! Plus, gotta support local businesses and all, right?”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at Prompto’s abundant enthusiasm. “...Indeed. Can I help you?”

“Right, yes. I mean, I hope so! That is, uh.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, looking over his shoulder back toward the door. “You know, you don’t have a HELP WANTED sign in your window. But Noct told me you were looking to hire someone?”

It was true that his two part-time summer hires had both returned to school in Lestallum—and seeing as he never had more than two other employees at any one time, he was on his own once again. Ignis didn’t mind so much; business was slow, the shop was small. He could manage on his own, for a time. But Noct loved to get on his case, telling him that he was too overworked and that he needed help. This time, it seemed, he’d been proactive enough to send in his own friend as the potential recruit.

“There… _ is _ an opening available,” he admitted, eyeing Prompto somewhat reluctantly. He stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the subdued atmosphere, all ripped jeans and boisterousness. “Did you bring a résumé?”

“Oh, of course!” Prompto dug a folded rectangle of crinkled paper out of his back pocket, a sight which already had Ignis cringing. He accepted the paper and retreated to his position behind the counter, setting down the last two books he’d yet to shelve so he could unfold the paper and smooth out the creases.

It was hardly the most impressive résumé he’d ever seen, but it wasn’t terrible either. He’d had some retail experience before: an ice cream parlor, a convenience store, a clothing store. Nothing to do with books, however. Ignis pushed his glasses up as he looked over at Prompto, who stood wringing his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Did he always have this much nervous energy?

“Do you like to read, Prompto?”

Prompto hesitated, which was already somewhat of an answer. “I do! I mean, I like books. In theory. But I prefer to listen to audiobooks since I’m not always the best at focusing.” He seemed to realize his error, then, and his eyes widened as he waved his hands in front of him. “I-I mean, focusing on the words on the page. But I’m great at focusing on a task when I set my mind to it!”

Ignis was almost amused. “I see. And what sort of books do you like to listen to?” 

“Let’s see…” Prompto tapped his finger to his chin in a thinking gesture, almost cartoonishly. “I like stories that have adventure. Fantasy is always fun. Like King’s Knight! Well, that’s a video game, but I just mean that sort of thing. Sci-fi is also great. He paused for a moment, eyes seemingly landing on the Biography sign above his head, then lit up. “Oh, but non-fiction can be good too! I listened to this fantastic memoir the other day—Nyx Ulric, the war hero. It really amazed me, all the stuff he’s been through. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, thinking he wasn’t gonna make it—but then I remembered he had to have survived, since he wrote the damn thing.” He laughed a little, self-deprecating, then turned his gaze back to Ignis with a bright smile.

Well then. He had enthusiasm, that was for certain. Ignis stepped out from behind the counter once more and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir. I’m going on vacation to Galdin Quay with my husband, and I was looking for some nice light reading to enjoy on the beach.”

Prompto blinked. “Your...” And then he understood, belatedly, and laughed. “Oh, this is a test! Yes, of course, um, ma’am. Something light and beachy? You might like a…nice romance, then!” He looked around, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Uh, where’s the romance section?”

Ignis merely shrugged, smiling faintly. “You tell me.”

“Well...alright, then! Just one moment.” He turned and walked around the corner to the next aisle, and Ignis followed, offering no guidance. “Romance, romance, where are you...” He found the section a moment later—it wasn’t as if there was much room to get lost in a shop this size—and let out a pleased “aha!”

“Here you are, ma’am. Ah, do you want me to help you choose one? I haven’t exactly read many of these, but...” He started pulling books off the shelf at random, examining them thoughtfully and narrating as he went. “This one looks too sad, honestly. How about...well no, that’s about winter. Not very beachy. And...nope, that’s a vampire one. Oh!” He paused suddenly, holding up a lightly worn paperback with a woman standing on the beach, her long dress swept up in the wind and a sunset over the water behind her. “Look at this one!  _ Berried Memories _ . “Small-town chef Coctura was looking for a change of scenery, not a miracle--but she found one on the mystical shores of Galdin Quay. She wasn’t looking for love, either, but there was something strangely familiar about the Altissian dignitary who came to stay...” It looks perfect!” He held the book out to Ignis, beaming.

Ignis accepted it and looked over it for a moment, then hummed in satisfaction. “Very good, thank you.” He returned the book to its proper place, then turned and headed back to his station at the counter.

Prompto trailed behind him, hopeful. “So? How did I do?”

Better than Ignis had expected, in all honesty, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. What he lacked in practical book knowledge, he could make up for with his earnest warmth with customers, something that Ignis could probably use a little more of.

“What do  _ you _ think, Prompto? Do you feel you would do well here?”

To his credit, Prompto stopped to think for a moment before answering. “I’ll be honest, I have a lot to learn. But I’m always going to try really, really hard to be the kind of employee you can rely on. Cross my heart!”

Ignis looked him over once more—his eager smile, his combat boots, the optimistic twinkle in his eyes—and sighed. “Can you begin tomorrow?”

A grin split Prompto’s face, and he nodded rapidly. “I sure can!”

“Very well then.” Ignis opened a drawer beneath the register, retrieving the working papers. “Eleven AM, on the dot. Bring me your class schedule for the semester so we can work out your shifts.”

He passed over the paperwork, and Prompto could barely contain his excitement as he accepted them. “Will do! I’ll be there! Thanks, Iggy—hey, is it alright if I call you that? Iggy?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he headed for the door. “Well I won’t let you down, Iggy. See you tomorrow!!”

Ignis watched him go, blinking, the golden August afternoon sunlight swallowing him up as he exited the store. And then he sighed, picking up the last two books to be shelved and wondering whether he should be thanking Noctis or reprimanding him. Only time would tell.

* * *

They arranged a rather neat schedule: Prompto would work on Wednesdays and Thursdays from 12 to 6, and on Saturdays and Sundays from 11 to 5. Ignis was pleased at how well it worked within the schedule of Libra’s hours: open five days a week, excluding Mondays and Tuesdays, from 10 to 7 mostly— _ never _ open when Ignis himself wasn’t there—and Ignis preferred opening and closing on his own, anyway. This meant he would only be totally alone on Fridays, but he couldn’t reasonably ask a college senior to give up his  _ entire _ weekend.

It took Prompto a few days to learn the layout of the store and how to find each of the sections. It wasn’t easy to get lost in such a tiny shop, but he did still manage it several times, even with Ignis’ neat labeling and logical arrangement: sometimes, he would find himself in the opposite corner that he needed to be in, and would make up odd excuses as to why. (“The Mystery section should really be hidden in the back, so you have to go searching for it. Like your own little mystery!”)

On his third shift, Prompto tripped over his own feet and managed to knock over an entire table display. He apologized profusely and spent the next hour carefully rearranging it, and when he finished it looked…better than it did before, actually.

One area that Ignis didn’t have to worry about was the cash register. Prompto was a whiz on that thing; he had picked it up before his first day was over. He was also stronger than he looked—an essential quality when handling quantities of books—but Ignis quickly learned that he could not carry tall stacks of books without most of them ending up on the floor somehow. (“Look, balance is not my strong suit. But boxes are nice! Boxes have never let me down.”)

His knowledge of books was about as woeful as Ignis had predicted on that first day. Customers would come in asking for specific authors, or recommendations based on particular series or writing styles, and Prompto would be at a loss; it would be up to Ignis to chime in. Once he gave them someplace to start, however, Prompto would take the reins and win the customers over, charming them with his amiability and genuine desire to help. His literary fumblings were forgotten, and they would walk out satisfied more often than not.

Perhaps he wasn’t the most competent employee Ignis had ever had, but he was satisfied nonetheless. He didn’t even mind that Prompto brought his camera in to work on most days, using the downtime to snap the odd photograph or two.

“You’re quite the shutterbug, aren’t you?”

“That’s me!” Prompto looked up from his camera screen, where he’d been examining the photo he had just taken of the reading nook in the back of the shop. “It  _ is _ my major, anyway.”

“Ah, yes. Noct did mention that. Of course, it took me asking first, and his answer was—” Ignis took on a tired expression, waving his hand vaguely— “I dunno, something to do with photography.

“Wow,” Prompto laughed, “that was a scary good Noct impression.”

“It’s almost like I’ve known him all my life,” Ignis responded with a wry smile.

“Ha! I guess so. Ooh, what was he like as a kid?”

He considered for a moment. “Quite sweet, actually. Very imaginative. Quiet.”

“Awww. I can  _ picture _ it now.” Prompto held his camera up to his eye at the word “picture” and earned a chuckle from Ignis, who could never say no to a pun.

“On the hunt for inspiration, are you?” Ignis gestured to Prompto’s camera.

“Always! But especially now.” Prompto took this as an invitation to come over to Ignis’ place at the counter, setting his camera down and leaning against it from the opposite side. “I have a major portfolio review at the end of the semester, and I need to figure out some sort of central theme to focus on and tie it all together.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “What do you normally like to take photos of?”

“Mmm...people, mostly. Sometimes posed, but I like candids best. There’s something really neat about capturing a moment forever on film, you know? Like, no matter what changes in life, that moment will always be frozen that way for you to keep.”

It was only part-way through Prompto’s third week, and Ignis had yet to figure him out. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the depth of that answer surprised him.

“May I see an example?”

“Oh. Uh, sure! Prompto picked up his camera and turned on the display screen, scrolling back through several photos before landing on one. He turned the camera around and placed it gently in Ignis’ hands.

It was a photo of Noctis and his girlfriend, Luna. They were sitting at the base of a tree on the edge of the campus quad, Noct leaning back against the trunk with an arm loosely draped around Luna, who was leaning into his side. Neither were looking at the camera; they both seemed to be looking at someone beyond the scope of the shot. Noct's lips were upturned in an amused smirk, while Luna's mouth was open in the midst of a bright laugh that Ignis could almost hear just from looking at it. A few rays of golden sunlight found their way through the lush green leaves, providing the perfect accent to the overall composition of the shot.

"We're not gonna be in college forever. We're gonna get old, and move on with our lives, and maybe even drift apart over the years. But this moment is going to last, even when everything else is gone. That’s…kinda special, I think.”

Ignis studied the photo for another moment, then looked up at Prompto, studying him instead. It was a beautiful photo, and a beautiful sentiment, and he wanted to find the words to say so. But Prompto squirmed under his gaze, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck, and spoke before he could.

“Heh, sorry…that was pretty cheesy, huh? Like, cheesier than a triple cheese pizza from Lil Tony’s. You’re not lactose intolerant, are you? Man, I think I’m gonna need some Tums now.” He started exaggeratingly patting the pockets in his jeans and then peering over the counter, as though he were actually looking for indigestion medication. “You got any back there?”

The time for sincerity had passed, the moment flitting away uncaptured, and Ignis chuckled. “I’m afraid this is a book store, not a pharmacy. That would be down the block, and hang a left.”

“Right,” Prompto straightened up, “cool cool cool. Be right back, then.”

He made it about a step from the door before Ignis realized that he really would’ve walked straight out for the sake of the joke.

“Not so fast, pizza boy. You’ve got another two hours with me yet.”

“Aw, man. You can’t expect me to work on an upset stomach, can you?” Prompto turned back to face Ignis and held a hand to his forehead, dramatically leaning back against the door to indicate his supposed physical distress. This quite confused the customer who had appeared on the other side of the glass, about to enter the shop, and Ignis would’ve snorted if he were one to make such indelicate sounds.

“Prompto, I’ll thank you not to scare off my customers with your theatrics.”

Ignis was more amused than actually concerned, but Prompto straightened up with a confused noise and turned, only to let out a yelp and push the door open for the woman. His innate charm kicked in immediately as he apologized and inquired whether she was looking for anything in particular today, and Ignis contented himself to simply watch as he found his footing.

* * *

Prompto sighed exaggeratedly as he flung the door to the shop inwards, making his entrance impossible to miss. He approached the counter in a few short strides, then slumped across it, cheek pressed to its surface and a dejected expression on his face.

“Dear me,” Ignis remarked, looking down at him with raised brows. “Dare I ask what could be the matter on such a fine Saturday morning?”

“It’s September 23 rd ,” Prompto groaned, as if the date had personally offended him. “Do you know what that means?”

Ignis checked his phone screen, considering for a moment. “I believe it’s the first day of fall, is it not?”

“Bingo. Which means summer is  _ officially _ dead. Gone, buried, history.” He actually  _ pouted _ upon saying so, and ran a fingertip down from his eye to simulate a single tear.

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” Ignis said. “But I can’t say I’m too upset. Summer is all well and good, but I’ve always preferred the cold.”

Prompto picked himself up and imitated a shiver, then shook his head emphatically. “No thank you! Summer is life, freedom, exhilaration!” He spoke with his hands, spreading them wide to express his stance, his presence filling the whole room. “Nothing can compare to driving with the windows down and the music blasting and the wind in your hair. Give me the warmth of the sun on my skin, any day. Every day!”

Though neither of them mentioned it, the date also marked one month since Prompto had come in to apply for the job. They had settled into routine, slowly but surely. Ignis stacked his new acquisitions at the end of the counter against the wall, after he’d priced them all, and it was Prompto’s job to shelve them when he came in—Ignis could get it done two or three times as quickly, but he wanted Prompto to learn where everything belonged, and it had been fairly effective thus far.

Last night a customer had come in with an overflowing box of paperbacks to sell, as most did, and Ignis had left it for Prompto to handle. And sure enough, Prompto headed over to the box without having to be asked, settling it atop the wheeled book cart and picking up the first book to examine.

“You paint a nice picture, I must admit.”

“I  _ take _ pictures. I don’t paint.” Prompto winked at Ignis before disappearing into one of the aisles, and Ignis would have groaned if he weren’t just as pedantic himself.

“Indeed. You… _ present _ a nice picture. However, I’d like to present a counterpoint: air just brisk enough to refresh you, comfortable in a nice light jacket, bearing the smell of crisp red apples and fresh straw.”

Prompto pulled a large book from his side of the open shelves, creating a bigger gap that he could peer through. “Dude, you don’t have to convince me. Fall is fantastic! I got my first PSL this morning!”

“And you didn’t bring me one? Tsk.”

“Hey, give me your order and you got it.”

Ignis waved the notion off with a hand, as he’d only been joking. “Perhaps next time.” Prompto shrugged and replaced the book and close his little window, but he was still visible through the smaller gaps above the book spines on each shelf, and Ignis could see him crouch down to find the new home of a book from his box. 

“So if you love the fall, why are you complaining so much?”

“Aw, I’m half kidding anyway. I just love summer best of all. Plus the fact that after fall comes winter. Bleugh.” He moved gradually down the aisle, taking his time to find the proper place for each book. “It’s like…Sunday, you know? Sundays can be full of fun activities and good things, but the whole time you know that Monday is fast approaching. Fall is just one long drawn-out Sunday.”

Prompto had passed by now from the second to the third aisle, the added shelves and books making it harder to see him. He heard, instead, as Prompto made a grunt of effort, followed by a synchronized footfall on the carpet as if landing from a jump. Ignis was already out from behind the counter by the time Prompto wondered aloud where the stepstool had gone.

“Come now, winter’s not all bad.” Prompto startled as Ignis suddenly appeared at the end of the row, heading down toward him with the stepstool in hand. “Need I paint you another picture of fireplaces and fluffy snowflakes?” He set the stool down at Prompto’s feet, and Prompto huffed.

“Man, it’s so unfair you don’t even have to use that thing. Didn’t you think about how your tall person shelves would make us short people feel?”

“Indeed. That would be why I purchased a stepstool.”

Prompto narrowed his eyes at Ignis, brow crinkling. Ignis smiled pleasantly as he plucked the book from Prompto’s hands, gave it a cursory glance, and reached up without effort to slip it into its proper place.

“…Fine. I’ll give you this: winter has its moments.”

“Moments, I’m sure, that you have captured and will continue to capture on that camera of yours. Moments that must be just as worthy of appreciation, no?”

The faux disapproval on Prompto’s face was quickly wiped away, replaced instead by an expression of surprise. “Well…I mean, yeah, of course! Who am I to say whether a moment has value or not?”

There was something curious in the way he stared up at Ignis, and for a moment, Ignis wondered what he looked like in Prompto’s eyes. Was he a fair boss? An amiable coworker? Prompto seemed the kind of person incapable of indifference, and so he must have formed some opinion. He didn’t know why, but he found himself caring what it was.

Prompto held his gaze for another long second, then returned his attention suddenly to the book cart next to him, picking up a new one to examine. “Course, some moments are just better than others. Like playing with a puppy. It doesn’t get much better.”

Ignis smiled. “Can’t argue with that.”


	2. quite aligned to your design

October arrived, and with it came the cold. And despite all his earlier protests, Prompto had already fully embraced the new season. He wore comfortable flannels, discussed potential Halloween costumes, and came into work with a pumpkin spice latte every day. (“Am I basic? Yes, yes I am. Do I care? Hell no. The haters don’t know what they’re missing, I tell ya!”)

The previous morning he had asked Ignis, as he had asked every other morning for the past week and a half, what his coffee order was. Ignis continued to shrug him off, saying something to the effect of “never you mind, I make it myself at home.” But Prompto hated the feeling of coming in, Ignis already working, with only something for himself. So on that particular morning he pushed open the door of Libra with an elbow and a hip, two drinks in his hand, and placed one confidently down on the counter in front of a startled Ignis. 

“You won’t tell me what you want, so it looks like I’m gonna just have to keep guessing until I get it right.” 

Ignis blinked for a moment, then adjusted the glasses that had slid down his nose. “Prompto, that’s very kind of you, but I assure you it isn’t necessa—“

“Anyway, this one is a chai latte with a dash of cinnamon. I feel like you might be a cinnamon kind of guy.” 

He eyed the coffee cup warily. Prompto did not move, watching him with an expectant smile. He’d wait until Ignis took at least one sip, even if it meant standing there all morning. 

Luckily, it wasn’t that long of a wait. Ignis conceded with a sigh, picking it up to take a small cautious sip. “Hmm…a bit sweet for my tastes. I prefer it darker, with less sugar. And I wouldn’t call myself a “cinnamon kind of guy,” but...I didn’t mind it.”

Prompto grinned, satisfied. “Not bad for a first attempt though, right? And I’ll do even better tomorrow.” 

“But you don’t have to. I mean it.” There was a concerned tilt to Ignis’ eyebrows. “You’re not some intern whose job is to bring coffee for his boss.”

“I know.” Prompto shrugged, still smiling. “I just thought it would be nice to get coffee for my buddy.” 

He was used to Ignis being caught off guard by him—they were pretty opposite in a lot of ways, and Prompto didn’t always “fit” in this environment. But the earnest surprise on Ignis’s face felt like an expression he hadn’t seen before, perhaps because it was colored with something like...vulnerability? 

Prompto worried, then, that he had spoken too freely, or that he’d been presumptuous. They had spent the last month together, often filling the time with affable conversation. That was enough for Prompto to consider them friends, but maybe Ignis didn’t feel that way. Maybe he wasn’t interested in befriending his employees, or just Prompto in particular. 

But then he smiled, clutching the coffee cup between two hands. “Well in that case, thank you. It’s a very kind gesture.”

The smile alleviated some of Prompto’s concern, and he nodded. “You got it, man!” 

“To be honest, I’m not the most adventurous with my coffee. I’ve drank nothing but Ebony since the first cup, so perhaps this will be an interesting experiment for me. A chance to branch out.” He took another sip of the latte, thoughtful. “Yes, still too sweet. Not unlike you.” He inclined his head toward Prompto, lips still quirked upwards. “But I can see the appeal.”

A cheerful dingle announced the entry of a customer, before Prompto could respond: a regular, an old man who often brought his grandson along when he wasn’t at school. Ignis greeted him by name, stepping out from behind the register—drink still in hand—to chat with him. Prompto leaned against the counter and drank his own latte, watching the comfortable grace with which Ignis conducted himself and wondering quietly at the meaning of “too sweet.”

After Jared left, and in between smatterings of customers coming and going, Prompto started his project. He had discovered a whole little subculture online of aesthetic blogging dedicated to books, and he’d started following a few—which had inspired him to come up with a Halloween-themed idea to tempt customers. To his surprise, Ignis had declared it brilliant and given him free rein to carry it out.

Of course, he still needed Ignis to help. He stood in front of the Mystery section a short while later with a box in his arms, but that time he was pulling books off the shelves instead of putting them on. He’d scan the titles, looking for ones that caught his eye, occasionally pulling one out to read the summary.

“How about… _ Howling Winds of Hunger?” _

“Not a very good representative of its genre, if you ask me,” Ignis called back. “Low level, one could say.”

Prompto shrugged, returning it to its spot, then pulled out another.  _ “The Gourmands of Vannath?” _

“Much better. An edge-of-your-seat read, questioning what it means to be human. Yes, that’ll do nicely.”

That earned it a spot in the box, landing amongst the other selections with a decisive thud. The box was starting to get heavy, but it felt like  _ satisfaction _ in Prompto’s arms as he meandered toward the Horror section.

_ “Exorcism of the Nebulawood _ looks like an interesting one. There’s a creepy-looking daemon on the cover. Very spooky.”

There was a pause and the click of typing as Ignis looked it up. A rare occurrence, it seemed: he had read an alarming number of the books on his shelves. “Good reviews, and a highly regarded author. Appropriately spine-tingling, I should think.”

“Bone-chilling!” Prompto grinned as he added it to the bunch.

When the box was overflowing, he heaved it over to the counter where Ignis had already taken out a roll of orange paper to wrap them in. Prompto made a valiant attempt, but they quickly determined that Ignis would be in charge of wrapping when Prompto’s came out “like a drunk toddler, I know.” 

He used the time instead to make a careful list of which books they had selected, and with some help from Ignis and the internet, came up with a few key words to describe each one without giving it away: “psychological thriller, identity loss” or “horror, daemons, tragic romance” or “murder mystery, dark humor.” As Ignis finished each wrapping, Prompto carefully printed its keywords on the paper: the only indication of what book might be contained in each.

“This one is a personal favorite of mine,” Ignis said as he began to wrap  _ The Pride of the King. _

“Ooh, tell me about it!” 

And so he did, weaving a tale of the classic hero’s downfall, interspersed with mysterious elements of the darkly supernatural. Prompto watched him, captivated by his smooth narration, admiring the way his fingers deftly wrapped the book as though it required no effort whatsoever. Struck by a sudden urge, he put down his marker and picked up his camera, snapping a photo of Ignis between sentences. 

Ignis startled at the click of the shutter, pausing in his retelling and wrapping to blink in surprise. “Do you do that often?” 

“Who, me?” Prompto grinned sheepishly as he lowered the camera from his eye. “Randomly take candids of my friends at various mundane moments? Nah, never. I mean, hardly ever. Like...pretty infrequently. Just every now and then. On occasion. Sometimes. You know?” 

Ignis raised an eyebrow, and then a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I suppose it’s something I’ll have to get used to, then. Is it a nice shot, at least?” 

Prompto turned on the display screen, holding the camera so they could both look. It  _ was _ a nice shot: Ignis was captured in profile, gazing down at the mostly-wrapped book in his hands. The sunlight coming through the windows at the front of the shop was enough to illuminate his features without flash, and it highlighted the sharp definition of his jawline. His expression was one of comfortable ease, a man perfectly at home in his environment.

Prompto stared at the photo for a long moment, then turned his gaze from the face on the screen to the face next to him, trying to gauge Ignis’ reaction. He was relieved to find that he seemed...impressed, almost. 

“You really do have a knack for this,” he said, releasing the camera to finish his wrap job. “I suppose I don’t mind if you feel the urge to take the odd photo here and there. Should keep me on my toes, anyway.” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Prompto said, earnest. “It would suck if you didn’t, since you make such a good model. Like, seriously dude, has anyone ever told you how photogenic you are?” 

Ignis seemed startled at that, letting out a “hmph.” For at least the third or fourth time today, Prompto wondered if he’d said too much, and he felt a touch of heat rise to his cheeks. 

“You know, I’ve always dreamed of leaving this modest bookshop life to the dust and becoming a model.” 

The response evoked a laugh from Prompto, relieving the tension. “I can see it now, cover of a magazine. Fall fashion edition. The latest trend? Library chique.” 

“They say plum is the new black, after all,” Ignis remarked with a smirk, gesturing to his purple sweater. He placed the newly papered book in front of Prompto to label, and for a moment he’d almost forgotten which book was inside. 

“Wait, I interrupted you before. Did the prince get killed by the werewolf?” 

“Even better,” Ignis said, beginning the next one. “They fell in love.” 

“ _ Damn _ , talk about a plot twist!” 

They finished all of the orange books with minimal interruptions from customers, and it hardly felt like work at all. Prompto was all smiles and laughter as they started in on the next set of books, to be wrapped in purple instead: these were the sweet and fluffy romances, the playful comedies, the fun-filled adventures. He’d set them all up as a display near the front of the store when they were all finished, the orange and the purple and only a few words on each to hint at what the book contained, and he’d make a sign telling customers that they could embrace the spirit of Halloween by choosing a TRICK or a TREAT. And every now and then as they worked, he could hear Ignis’ voice in his head telling him that it was a brilliant idea, and it would bring a fresh smile to his face.

By late afternoon he was working on the display, carefully stacking and arranging the books: orange on the left side, purple on the right. “Hey Iggy,” he called out, after a lull in the conversation grew too long for his liking. “What got you started as a bookshop owner, anyway?” 

There was a pause before Ignis answered. “My uncle owned this shop, inherited from his father before him. I grew up between these shelves. Worked here part time in my adolescence. And my uncle was unmarried, and had no children of his own. So when he passed, I was the only one who could take it on.” 

Prompto froze, book in hand, his heart sinking in his chest. “Oh... god, I’m sorry.” He leaned to the side of the display so he could make eye contact. “Really, I mean...I didn’t mean to bring up such a sore subject.”

Ignis waved off the apology with a hand. “It was a perfectly innocent question; you had no way of knowing the answer would be so grim. But it’s all right, I don’t mind talking about it.”

“How long ago was it? I-if that’s okay to ask.” 

“I was finishing up my last year at uni. A little under three years ago, then.” He spoke matter-of-factly, his expression not betraying any sign of emotion, but Prompto noticed the way his shoulders were stiffened, the way his words were clipped, his tone carefully neutral. He wasn’t the type to let himself be vulnerable, particularly in front of someone he hadn’t known very long.

Prompto set down the book in his hand, taking a step closer. He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know more. To show that he cared. “And...I’m guessing it wasn’t your original plan to run this place full time.” 

“Not at all. I was a political science major. But I knew I had to put my aspirations on hold if I had any hope of keeping this place afloat.” He was staring down at his hands where they were folded atop the counter, unmoving. “I could have sold it, I suppose. But I know that anyone who buys it would tear down the bookshop and use this space for another business, and I couldn’t bear to see that happen.” 

“That makes sense.” Prompto had approached the counter, watching Ignis carefully. “But...what about you? Are you happy?”

Ignis looked up at him, startled into a momentary silence. It looked as though no one had ever asked him such a question. 

“I mean, that’s what really matters in the end. And I bet that’s what mattered to your uncle, too. If running this place makes you happy, then keep at it! But if it’s not what you want, I bet you can figure out a different path.”

He laid a hand on Ignis’s arm as he spoke, and Ignis jerked in surprise at the contact. His eyes darted down to Prompto’s hand, then back up to his face.

“...Thank you. I’ll think on it.” 

Prompto smiled, gave his arm a squeeze, and then released it to finish his display, oblivious to the stunned Ignis he left in his wake. 

As the warm light of the setting sun streamed through the shop windows at the end of Prompto’s shift, he stood in front of his finished display, beaming proudly at the accomplishment. He’d already taken several photos to document it, of course.

“Tomorrow I’ll set up the window display to advertise it,” he said, ideas already churning in his head. 

Ignis came to stand next to him, also admiring the setup. “It looks wonderful. You did well, Prompto.”

Their gazes met, and Prompto sunned himself in the smile on Ignis’ face, the approval in his eyes. And then, without warning, he felt his stomach do a flip at the sight. 

“Heh, thanks,” is what he said. But as he gathered his things, as he exited the shop, as he walked back to campus, he thought something very different.

Oh. Oh dear.

* * *

Customers loved the Trick or Treat idea. They were crazy for it, telling Prompto and Ignis what a fun concept it was and buying enough of the books that they had to start replenishing the display with new ones. The best were the people who came back in a few days after their purchase, saying how the book they received wasn’t one they normally would’ve picked up, but also how much they liked it, and then inquiring whether they could recommend any other books that were similar.

No, actually. The  _ best _ was the praise that Ignis gave Prompto, telling him that sales were noticeably higher than average this month, that he was a natural salesman, that he was impressed by his creativity.

Prompto had caught himself staring as of late, when Ignis wasn’t looking. As he put books away in the mornings, he would pause, looking through the gaps in the shelves. Ignis would be standing behind the counter, sipping the coffee that Prompto had brought him, eyes traveling across the page of the book in his hands or fingers nimbly tapping at the keyboard of the computer. And then Prompto would shake his head, pressing his fingers to his warm cheeks and telling himself to cut it out.

October flew by: a blur of sales, of camaraderie, of lattes, of butterflies. The 25th rolled around before he knew it, and as usual, he didn’t expect much—nobody had ever made a big deal about his birthday growing up, and having any sort of expectations only led to disappointment. 

So he expected nothing when he arrived to work, and was entirely unbothered when Ignis made no acknowledgement—how would he know, anyway? But as he rang up a customer who chatted about her son’s birthday party that afternoon, he did allow himself one wistful moment to imagine being celebrated.

And then Noctis walked in, for the first time since Prompto had begun working there. He grinned at the sight of his roommate and best friend, calling out, “Heeeey, it’s Noct!” The gift bag in Noct’s hand didn’t even register until he set it down in front of him.

“Happy birthday, man.” He smiled his lazy smile, leaning against the counter. “Sorry I was still sleeping when you left this morning. I guess I could’ve given this to you later tonight, but I thought I’d treat you and Specs to a surprise visit, seeing as it’s always so dull around here.” 

His expression indicated that he was just teasing, especially given how long he’d known Ignis, but Prompto felt a sudden surge of protectiveness. “Hey, it’s totally exciting working here,” he insisted as behind him, Ignis stepped out the door from his tiny office. “We always have a good time, right Iggy?”

“The best, truly.” He nodded at Noctis in greeting, then eyed the gift bag on the counter. “Afternoon, Noct. Would you believe Prompto here didn’t tell me that today is his birthday?”

“It is pretty hard to believe that there’s something Prompto didn’t go all chatterbox mode on. You sure you didn’t just tune him out?”

Ignis narrowed his eyes. “Oh yes, and what a  _ treat _ your presence is proving to be.”

“Ooooh, gottem!” Prompto laughed. “He’s not wrong though. But hey, what’s this?” He pulled the bag closer, peeking inside and then looking up again. “Is this really for me?”

“Of course it is,” Noctis chuckled, “who else would it be for?”

“Wow, how lucky am I?” Prompto eagerly pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and dug inside, then let out a crow of delight at what he found: a brand new camera strap, which would have been nice on its own, but this particular one had fluffy yellow chocobos galloping across it. 

“No. Way. It has  _ chocobos  _ on it! Oh my god, they’re so cute!” He showed it to a grinning Noct, who was already quite aware of what it looked like, and then turned and eagerly held it up to Ignis, practically about to burst with excitement. “Iggy, look at how cute they are!!

“Precious,” Ignis smiled. 

“It’s not much, I know. But I noticed that your old strap was getting pretty worn out, and then this one came up when I searched it online. Seemed like a perfect fit to me,” Noctis shrugged.

“It really is!” Prompto came out from behind the counter, throwing his arms around his best friend in a big bear hug. Noctis responded with an “oof” and a few back pats, amused and used to such exuberance. “You’re the best, Noct.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Prompto pulled back after a few seconds, looking at the camera strap again and still grinning. He shouldn’t have been as touched as he was—it wasn’t as though Noctis had ignored his birthday last year, or even the year before. But he was conditioned not to expect such things, and so was surprised every time. 

“You ought to swap it out for the old one now,” Ignis spoke up from behind him. “Perhaps even document the rare occasion of Noct actually visiting me.” 

“Aw, come on,” Noctis protested. “I visit you all the time.”

“Hardly. Can you even recall the last time you stepped foot in this shop?”

“Uh, you know.” He waved his hand vaguely. “The other month. That time, with the...thing.” 

Ignis leveled him with a flat look. “Your attention to detail astounds me.” 

Prompto barked out a laugh, then retreated back behind the register so he could retrieve his stowed-away camera. “I bet Iggy remembers exactly when it was!” 

“February. Just before Valentine’s. Noct was doing some last-minute gift shopping around town for Luna, and came in to ask me for advice.” Ignis crossed his arms in a ‘so there’ gesture, a vision of smugness which, frankly, cracked Prompto up. 

Noctis scoffed, mirroring Ignis’ posture by crossing his own arms. “Fine, maybe that’s the last time I saw you  _ here _ . But we’ve hung out in other places  _ plenty _ of times since—”

“Pfft, as if any other place could measure up!” Prompto snapped a picture, as requested, of Noctis in all his disgruntled glory—another endless source of amusement for him, personally. “Libra Elementia is the coolest hangout spot in town. You know Iggy, I’m starting to wonder about my best friend’s judgement.” 

“As you should. I’ve been doubting his judgement since the first semester of his freshman year, when he called me in a blind panic at 4 AM to ask how to use the library research databases. For a term paper that was due in less than twelve hours.”

“Oh boy, the semi-annual Redbull-fueled research paper marathon all-nighter! When’s the next one scheduled for, buddy? December 7th or so?”

“Hey, it’s not like you’re much better,” Noctis retorted. 

“Only for the boring gen ed requirements.” Prompto held up his camera, triumphant. “But my photos are always ready in advance!”

“I’m not sure that Noct understands what it means to do something ‘in advance,’” Ignis remarked.

“Oh of course, silly me! It means doing things ahead of time. Like, not the day of.”

“How fortunate he is, to be blessed with such knowledgeable and responsible friends to help him along.” 

“For real,” Prompto agreed. “Where would he be without us?”

“Lost, surely.” 

Noctis narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between the cheekily smiling pair. “You two being friends is weird. I don’t like it.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who suggested I start working here in the first place!”

“ _ And _ you’re the one who suggested I hire help. You have no one to blame but yourself, Noct.” 

“Ugh.”

The three teased and chatted and joked like this for some time, blessedly uninterrupted by customers. Prompto hopped up to sit atop the counter, his feet absently kicking at the air, and soaked in the friendship that surrounded him: the lifelong friendship of Ignis and Noctis, the years-long friendship between himself and Noctis, and the gently budding friendship between himself and Ignis. At times he simply observed their banter, and at others he chimed in, going back and forth with the two like he’d known them as long as they’d known each other. It all just flowed so easily. And for someone who had spent most of his life without any true friends or companionship, it filled him with a warmth that radiated through his whole body and was sure to last the entire rest of the day. 

Noctis had to go after about an hour or so, as he had class soon. Prompto was still smiling after he’d gone, running his fingers over the little chocobos on his new gift. 

“It was good of him to visit,” Ignis said from behind him.

“Yeah. He’s a good friend to me.” 

Ignis made a noise of agreement, then looked back to Prompto. “I do wish I had known today was your birthday.” 

“Aw, don’t worry about it, man.” Prompto shrugged it off, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “You would’ve made it a good birthday no matter what, just by making this a cool place to work and being your usual awesome self.” He turned to face Ignis at that, grinning cheesily.

Ignis blinked, but quickly recovered. “There you go again with the compliments and the sweetness. If you think it’ll earn you a raise, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Aw shucks,” Prompto chuckled, “you caught onto my master plan. Well hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying, right?

“But I can blame a guy for not tending to the customers,” he half-teased, nodding his head toward a young woman who was wandering about looking quite lost.

“I’m on it!” Prompto hopped off the counter and headed over, feeling a flicker of self-doubt as he wondered once again if he was coming on too strong with Ignis.

* * *

The next day when Prompto came in to work, he found a pastry waiting for him next to the register, one with a little candle stuck in it. Ignis stood next to it, looking up at Prompto as he entered. He stopped short, staring wide-eyed.

“That’s...for me?”

“There’s more where that came from. I considered picking something up from the bakery next door, but I’ve been dabbling with some cooking and baking recently, so I thought I’d give it a go. Noct said you were a big fan of chocolate.”

Prompto walked forward, looking between the sweet treat and Ignis, and set down their morning coffees. “You...made that? For me?”

Ignis picked up a lighter and lit the candle, smiling. “Happy belated birthday, Prompto.” 

For a moment, Prompto was at an uncharacteristic loss for words. So he responded with actions, instead: he threw his arms around Ignis, suddenly, like he had with Noctis the day before. Unlike Noct, however, Ignis seemed very unused to such a reaction: he stiffened immediately and was otherwise unresponsive. But then he loosened up, gradually, and even placed his own arms lightly around Prompto’s back. Prompto’s heart skipped several beats, and he had to pull away, sheepishly hoping his cheeks weren’t too flushed and avoiding Ignis’ eyes.

“Heh, sorry if that was weird. I guess I’m not really used to...um, nevermind. But thanks, Iggy.” He then looked up after his speech, nervous, but Ignis didn’t look weirded out or bothered—on the contrary, there was warmth and affection in his gaze. 

“It really isn’t much, and should have come yesterday. But you’re quite welcome, Prompto.” He nodded his head toward the candle. “Now go on and make a wish.”

Prompto closed his eyes, and his heart whispered a dangerous hope, an unrealistic, impossible desire. He blew out the candle.


	3. who knew we were lightning

Halloween came and went, and Ignis watched Prompto bid a bittersweet farewell to his beloved Trick or Treat display. But he took to the autumn setup with just as much verve and vigor, spending hours filling the window display with leaves and seasonal reads and cliche encouragements to “ _ Fall _ in love with reading!” He worked in the window as the rays of golden hour nestled themselves in his hair, and Ignis couldn’t help but notice the way it seemed to make him glow.

Prompto was unlike any employee Ignis had ever had before, in countless ways, but foremost was the way that they had truly become friends. He had always mostly liked running Libra, but Prompto made it truly enjoyable. Even if they weren’t trading stories or chatting about something or other, the occasional silences they shared were comfortable and companionable.

For the past few weeks, Prompto had expressed a newfound desire to start reading more, to discover the many captivating stories that lived on these shelves. He’d picked a few books out of his own accord, and took to reading them on his downtime. But Ignis noticed the way his leg bounced, the way a crease would deepen between his eyebrows, or his eyes would stray from the page, the way he would suddenly put it down and start up a spontaneous conversation.

“I just have trouble focusing on the words,” he admitted one day. “Like, my eyes will just run over the same sentence over and over again, and rather than taking it in, I’m thinking about what I’m gonna have for dinner later.” 

“Perhaps you just haven’t found the right type of book yet,” Ignis suggested.

“Eh, but I like the same kind of stuff when I listen to them as audio books.” He shrugged. “I’m just not really a good reader. Never have been.” 

“Hm. But listening is better?” 

“Usually, yeah. Cause if I’m listening to a book, I can do other stuff at the same time. Like the laundry, or straightening up my room, or playing a game on my phone. It helps me focus better, weirdly enough. Otherwise I just can’t pay attention.”

Ignis observed Prompto thoughtfully. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a large box: a customer had recently come in with nearly a hundred Middle Grade and YA books, and Prompto was going through one by one and pricing them. He combed through these books now with an ease that he’d lacked two months earlier, even if he hadn’t read any of them himself. 

It was a fortuitous purchase, as Prompto had told him more than once recently that he ought to expand the children’s section. In order to make the expansion to the section and add all of these books to the shelves, they were going to have to do some rearranging of the surrounding sections, including making room by pulling some books to store in the back. It was not going to be particularly difficult, but certainly time-consuming.

Yet Prompto, in his typical fashion, seemed excited by the prospect of a new project. He insisted on handling it himself, and Ignis relented: it was the kind of job that would only be messier with two people working on it at the same time. And so he lingered behind the counter, having already finished updating the inventory, feeling somewhat useless until an idea struck.

“I was about to start a new book myself,” Ignis said. “A fantasy, called  _ The Way of Gods and Kings.” _

“Okay, that’s a  _ sick _ title. What’s it about?”

Ignis flipped the book over, examining the back. “According to the summary, it’s the classic tale of a chosen Prince, who sets out to reclaim his kingdom from the evil empire that has taken hold. Along the way, he discovers his destiny is far greater: he must receive the blessing of the gods and use the power of light to vanquish the darkness from the world. You know. Typical fantasy fare.”

“Aw man, I love me a good Chosen One trope.” Prompto looked up from his pile of books, wistful. “Don’t suppose they’ve made a video game adaptation of it, huh?”

“Not to my knowledge. But...I could read it aloud, if you like.” He looked at Prompto carefully, hoping he wasn’t offending him. “It may make your task a little more fun.” 

Thankfully, Prompto didn’t seem at all offended by the proposition, and in fact his eyes lit up. “Wow, would you really? That  _ would  _ be fun!”

As usual, his enthusiasm didn’t fail to make Ignis smile. “Certainly. But feel free to let me know if my droning gets more dull than entertaining.” 

“Impossible!”

“We’ll see about that.” He opened the book to the first page, feeling the usual thrill of embarking on an adventure that starting a new book gave him, and began to read.

_ “The magnificence of the throne room was enough to awe most people who were lucky enough to step foot inside, but that was not the reason the prince stood stiff, his head bowed. His father gazed down on him, so full of expectation, and he felt as though he might shatter under the pressure. “The decreed hour is come,” spoke the king, his voice ringing through the hall. “Set forth with my blessing, Prince…””  _

And so he read, savoring the shape of each word as they lifted up off the page. It was much slower going than reading to oneself, in one’s own head, but reading the words aloud brought them to life in a different sort of way, made them tangible. He’d glance up at Prompto when he turned the page, finding him content as a clam as he first finished pricing the books, then began to sort them alphabetically by author. It seemed he wasn’t too distracted to work, while still being engaged in the story: every now and then he’d chime in with a comment or a question.

“She sounds cute,” he said with a sly grin, after the description of the mechanic who worked on the prince’s car.

“Indeed,” Ignis said, his lips downturned.

They had to pause every now and then when a customer needed assistance, or ringing up, and Ignis was glad for the breaks: his throat was beginning to get dry, and he had to get himself some water at one point. But he didn’t regret the suggestion: it was nice, sharing the experience of the story with Prompto. 

“I have a feeling his marriage to the princess isn’t going to go as planned,” Prompto predicted during another break in the story: Ignis knew better than him which books weren’t selling, and which he could pull from the shelves to make room for the new. Prompto stood at his side, taking note of each book as Ignis took them out and placed them in a box to be stored in the back room.

“These things never quite do, in stories like this. Otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a story.”

“I mean, the peace treaty is  _ obviously  _ a sham. How can these guys not see that?” 

“Because they don’t have the benefit of having read the book’s summary,” Ignis replied with a wry smile. 

“Or maybe they’re just not as brilliant as we are,” Prompto grinned back, tapping the side of his head for emphasis.

“Well, of course. That must be it.”

Once the shelves were cleared and the spare books brought to the back, Prompto insisted on arranging the new books himself, and Ignis got back to reading. The sun began to set outside as the prince and his friends received the terrible news that the crown city had fallen to the empire.

As he read, Ignis became gradually aware of the fact that he didn’t hear any movement. He looked up at the end of a paragraph and found his gaze reciprocated: Prompto had been staring at him, captivated, his fingertips lingering against the spine of a book he had just placed. His expression was open and vulnerable, and there was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at Ignis...something like admiration, or affection, or...longing? But Ignis couldn’t be sure, because he only caught it for a second before Prompto quickly looked away, crouching down to pick up another book and then fumbling it, nearly dropping it. He was far enough away that Ignis wondered if he was imagining the red flush that crept up his neck and cheeks.

Ignis looked down at the book and cleared his throat, feeling heat in his own face and a quiet tremble in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to make of  _ that _ , but internally shelved the matter as he determinedly finished the page or two left in the chapter.

“That’s as good a stopping place as any,” he said, slipping in a bookmark and closing it with a soft thud. “You’ve only got another five minutes left in your shift, anyway.” 

Prompto checked his phone, surprised at the time. “Wow, that went fast.” He looked down at the box of books, still half full, and the disorganization of the surrounding sections on the shelf. “You know, I don’t mind staying later, to finish this.”

“That’s kind of you to offer, but there’s no need. It’s a Saturday evening: I’m sure you’ve got somewhere more exciting to be.”

“More exciting than hanging out with you? There’s no such thing!” Prompto grinned, and if he had been nervous before, he was good at hiding it. “Anyway, Noct  _ was  _ thinking we should swing by a party on campus tonight, but that won’t be til later.”

Ignis furrowed his brow, hesitant to accept the offer. “Still, you need time for dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Eh, plenty of time for that. And if you can go without a little longer, then so can I!” He bent down to pick up another book and found its place, as if the matter were decided. When Ignis said nothing, he looked back over his shoulder and paused. “Look, I like being useful. I like being here! And I don’t want to leave this unfinished. Can I please stay?”

Ignis watched him for another moment with his lost puppy-dog stare, then sighed, coming out from behind the counter to join Prompto at the shelf. “Of course you may. But you’re going to have to accept my help for the remainder of the time.” 

“Fine by me!” Prompto beamed, and Ignis realized, standing this close, that he’d never really appreciated the spray of freckles across his cheeks. 

They worked in comfortable silence for the most part, broken only by the occasional commenting on a book or a question or two from customers, none of whom wound up making a purchase. The shelf came together quickly with two pairs of hands working on it, and before long everything was snugly in its new place. Prompto stepped back to admire their work, smiling with satisfaction. “We make a good team, huh?” 

Ignis looked at him, quiet—his mind racing, then suddenly going still. “We do.” 

He retreated, dipping quickly into his little office to retrieve Prompto’s bi-weekly paycheck. “There you are,” he said as he came back out, holding the envelope out. As Prompto took it, their fingers brushed, and an electric shock rushed through Ignis’ skin. He drew his hand back, quickly, and forced a casual smile. “Have a good night, Prompto. Thank you for all your hard work.” 

“The pleasure’s mine, Iggy. Always is.” Prompto pocketed the check and waved over his shoulder as he headed out. Ignis watched him go, then moved to the door and flipped the sign to CLOSED, locking it from the inside. He felt as though he were moving through a haze as he walked back to his office, like the haze clouding his mind, and sat slowly in the chair behind his desk. 

Well. This was certainly unexpected. 


	4. something tells me I'll never learn

The next morning, Prompto doggedly ignored the hangover thrumming through his skull and made it into work on time, trading his sweet latte that day for something a little darker and stronger. 

He’d expected Ignis to comment on the circles under his eyes, or the baggy sweatshirt he was sporting, or the less-than-chipper way he said good morning.  _ “Wild night?” _ Ignis would ask, making some joke about Noctis being a bad influence or his own lack of party animal tendencies. 

But Ignis only offered a polite hello and nodded in thanks at the usual coffee Prompto brought him. He returned his attention to the computer screen next to the register, saying nothing else. 

_ Weird _ , Prompto thought. Maybe he was tired too.

Sundays were often the busiest days in terms of customers, and throughout the morning and afternoon there was never a moment when the shop was empty. Prompto contented himself by walking around to offer help and suggestions, finding and relocating books that had been put back in the wrong spots, or straightening up messy displays. Ignis did much of the same, as well as tapping away at the computer and ringing customers up. 

Yet whenever Prompto tried to engage him in conversation or their usual banter, Ignis seemed disinterested. There was a stiffness in his shoulders, a dullness in his tone, an avoidance of eye contact. And as much as Prompto wanted to believe that Ignis was just in a bad mood for whatever reason, he couldn’t help but spend the whole day wondering if he had done something wrong.

He wanted to ask, but the words stuck in his throat. The idea that he had done something to alienate Ignis was worse than any hangover, worse than a thousand hangovers all stacked on top of each other. But he did his best to keep a smile on his face, keep himself busy, and convince himself—unsuccessfully—that Ignis just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

“Well... guess that’s all for today,” he said at 4:59, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible. “I’ll see you Wednesday!”

“So long,” Ignis said, unaffected, and without looking up from his computer screen.

The anxiety in his stomach churned relentlessly as Prompto walked home. It did not let up until later that night, when he was going through the photos of the day on his camera.

There, nestled amongst a handful of mundane pictures, was one he hadn’t taken himself—because it was a picture of him. He was leaning against a bookshelf, angled only slightly away from the camera, gazing at the book open in his hands—the cover had piqued his interest, and he had been reading the summary on the inside book jacket. Rays of sunlight settled along the tips of his hair, making it shine.

Prompto was struck by the intimacy of the photo—no customers were in the shot, seemingly no one else there at all besides the person who had taken it, close enough that you could make out the shade of his eyes. And yet he had been completely unaware of Ignis taking it, wrapped up in the sudden fear that he was angry with him.

He didn’t know what to make of this photo, cradling the camera in his hands and looking down at himself reflected back, an uncommon occurrence outside of selfies. Ignis had wanted to capture this sight, for whatever reason. Surely he couldn’t hate him, then. Surely there was something he had seen in Prompto that was worth keeping. 

Whatever it was, it spread a feeling of quiet warmth through Prompto’s chest. Nobody ever took photos of him. Nobody ever even thought to do it. 

But Ignis did.


	5. waiting for the right words

Ignis was glad for his two days off; he needed them to clear his head. 

Saturday had caught him off guard. The way Prompto had been looking at him belied an unexpected affection, or so he’d thought in the moment—but when he reflected on it, it occurred to him that Prompto was probably only caught up in the story that Ignis had been reading. Still, it had made him see Prompto in a new light, made something stir in his own chest. And it alarmed him.

He had barely been able to look at Prompto on Sunday, for fear of the sudden strange feelings that might arise. They were improper, irrational, and unrealistic. But his efforts at avoidance made him cold and unpleasant, and that wasn’t fair either. Prompto didn’t deserve that. 

So after taking some time to think everything through, Ignis had decided to apologize for his brusqueness, blame it on a bad mood, and move on as if everything were the same as before. And he was sure that if he did, the feelings would fade: this was only a passing fancy after all, borne of a deeply-buried yearning for companionship. Sure, Prompto invited a certain physical attraction, an aesthetic appeal—the photograph he had felt so compelled to take was proof enough of that—but that was hardly good enough reason to pursue such an abrupt and illogical desire.

He came in on Wednesday morning feeling confident that he could smooth things over, put this in the past, and never look back. He did not anticipate that Prompto would be calling out of work that day.

 _“I’m really sorry Iggy,”_ he said over the phone between fits of coughing, his voice hoarse and sapped of energy. He sounded like a different person entirely. _“Will you be okay without me?”_

“Of course,” Ignis reassured him. “Don’t you worry about me. Just get some rest.”

Within a minute or so of hanging up, he received several texts from Noctis.

_he tried to come in anyway. lucky I was there to stop him.  
_ _dude’s a wreck, he can barely talk  
_ _but he kept saying he didn’t wanna let u down._

Ignis felt a pang in his chest, a rush of both concern and affection at once.

_Tell him he could never let me down._

It was a slow day. Achingly, painstakingly slow. Like every Friday he had worked since Prompto started, the one day he wasn’t scheduled to come in. He was grateful for the customers who came in from time to time to break the silence, grateful to the little radio that tried its best to fill the shop, but nothing could match Prompto’s presence. His eyes travelled on more than one occasion to the book he had been reading aloud, itching to continue the story, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick it up: they had started it together, and Ignis intended to finish it together. And so he found little tasks to keep himself busy, like he always had before Prompto came along. But something was missing. Something was off.

On Thursday, a reluctant Prompto called out again, and Ignis resigned himself to another day of silence. It occurred to him as he rearranged the Poetry section that this is what it would be like all the time once Prompto left for good. Because he _would_ leave, whether upon graduating in May or perhaps even in a few weeks at the end of this semester. He was no different than any other employee in that sense: they came and they went, never staying for long. Perhaps he should get used to the idea now. Perhaps he shouldn’t have gotten so close.

Or perhaps it wouldn’t matter if he left. They shared a mutual best friend—was there anything stopping them from all hanging out together? Was there any reason why they couldn’t continue to develop this bond outside of the store? Ignis considered the possibility, moving on autopilot as he alphabetized. The minutes crawled by.

Friday was no different than any other Friday, except that this time it was the third Prompto-free day in a row. He paced up and down the aisles during the slower points of the day (read: all of it), reshelving the odd book or two. He tried to chat with the few customers who came in, but most seemed disinterested. He cleaned the bathroom. He swept the floors. 

Around five PM, his phone buzzed.

_i’m feeling a little better today!  
_ _so i should be fine to come in tomorrow!!! ^-^_

Relief swept through him. He tapped out a response.

_Thank goodness. You’ve missed some major developments.  
_ _I sold seven whole books yesterday.  
_ _I believe I heard a fly sneeze earlier._

_aw man, i missed the sneezing fly????? :(_

_And a toilet clog on Wednesday evening._

_not a toilet clog!!!!!!!!!_

They continued to go back and forth for some time, and it set Ignis at ease. He hoped the awkward tension he’d created on Sunday would be long forgotten by the next day, when Prompto finally came back in. 

Saturday came, and the first hour was filled with the usual weekend customers. And then Prompto walked through the door, looking pale and tired, but his smile was true. Sunshine spread through Ignis’ chest at the very sight of him, and he felt his own face melt into a smile in return. 

“Welcome back, Prompto.” 

Prompto beamed, hands tucked in his pockets as he sauntered over to the counter. “Glad to be back, Iggy! Didja miss me?”

Ignis took him in—his brilliant grin, the sparkle in his almost-purple eyes—and knew that he was lost, absolutely. But he found that he didn’t mind. 

“Every single minute.” 

* * *

It took them a week to finish reading _The Way of Gods and Kings_. They snuck scenes in between customers, relishing the moments when the shop was empty or when no one needed their assistance. Prompto worked on unpacking and arranging a shipment of fancy bookmarks for the counter display, and then a shipment of calendars for a table display—the end of the year was fast approaching. Ignis read until his throat was sore, and then Prompto actually took over and read a bit after his lingering cough had finally receded. 

On the following Saturday, in the quiet lull of late afternoon, Ignis read the final few pages. He closed the book with a thud of finality, and looked up to find that Prompto had tears in his eyes.

“Wow,” Prompto said, blinking quickly and swiping at his unshed tears. “I can’t believe the prince really did die, after all of that. I thought maybe the gods would let him live.” 

“It was a surprise to me as well,” Ignis admitted. “Now his friends must rebuild and move forward, without him. I can’t imagine.” 

“That one advisor really did remind me of you, you know.” 

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, you’ve mentioned. I do see the similarities, I suppose. And the best friend truly was the embodiment of you.” 

“It’s like we really were in the story after all,” Prompto grinned. “What do you think your guy is going to do now?” 

“Well if he has any sense whatsoever, he’s going to stick with yours. He may have learned to adapt to his disability on his own, but none of us are meant to be alone in this world.”

Prompto’s expression softened at that. He was leaning with his arms folded atop the counter on the other side from Ignis, the only barrier between them. “You’re right. Everyone deserves to find people who really care about them. And once you find them, how could you ever let them go?” 

Ignis held his gaze, and black butterflies fluttered in the pit of his stomach. Something passed between them as time slowed. He was at a loss for words, grasping for something to say that would suit the moment. But all he could think was that he wanted to kiss Prompto. He wanted to kiss him very much.

Prompto tilted his head, just slightly, uncertain eyes still caught on his. Ignis wanted to lean in. He was balanced on the edge of a precipice, gazing down at a very dangerous fall. And for the briefest of seconds, he was ready to jump. 

And then the bell above the door jingled as a customer entered the store, shattering the moment into pieces as they both looked up, Prompto practically leaping away from the counter. Ignis silently watched his overenthusiastic interaction with the customer, his heart racing. Whatever had just transpired between the two of them, it wasn’t something he would be able to let go of anytime soon. 

“Anyway,” Prompto said a little while later, as the customer exited with his purchase, “that was really cool. Getting to read the book together like that, I mean. It was way cooler than just reading a book on my own.” 

“Speaking as an avid reader, I’d actually have to agree with you there, for the most part.” He had regained his composure by then, his expression perfectly unaffected by the earlier moment. “Reading a book is such a solitary experience: and sometimes that’s nice, when one craves solitude. But there was something special about getting to experience it with someone else. Even if I was not quite prepared to read _that_ many words aloud,” he added wryly, reaching for the tea Prompto had so graciously bought him on his break. 

“It helps that it was such a good story, too! Although I wish the ending was a little happier.” 

“True. But I’d like to think the prince’s friends were able to find their own happiness, when all was said and done.”

Prompto smiled. “That’s a nice thought. I hope you’re right, Iggy.” 

“Lucky for you, I’m rarely ever wrong.” 

This elicited a laugh, a sound Ignis never tired of. “That’s true!” 

Silence fell over them once more. But unlike before, each of them quickly looked away: Prompto raked a hand through his hair, staring down at his shoes, and Ignis fiddled with some papers in front of him. 

“Well, um.” Prompto checked his phone, cleared his throat. “Time to go, huh? I’ve got some studying to do anyway. Real thrilling Saturday night, I know.” He chuckled awkwardly, and trailed off when Ignis didn’t join in. “So uh, yeah. Night, Iggy. See ya tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Prompto,” he replied, thinking up a quip about studying after the moment had already passed. “Don’t let the study bug bite,” he said instead, then immediately regretted saying anything at all. What the hell did that even mean? Prompto looked befuddled, but still smiled over his shoulder as he went. 

When he was gone, Ignis sank his head into his hands, and thought back to his original question from the very first time Prompto walked out that door: should he thank Noct, or reprimand him? He still wasn’t sure of the answer. 


	6. not a single day goes by where you don't cross my mind

Finals were just around the corner, and they had crept up on Prompto like always. This was his last semester where he’d really have to worry about them, as next semester was going to be all practicals and projects rather than actual exams—but the thought was hardly comforting while he still had exams to deal with.

He’d taken to bringing his textbooks and study guides in to work with him, and used the occasional downtime to cram. He studied through his lunch breaks and even began to stay after his shifts were done: as he explained to Ignis, he found Libra to be a much more conducive environment for studying than the campus library, where the air practically radiated with anxiety and dread. If he could, he’d spend all night at the little table in the back corner, but Ignis always had to kick him out eventually. 

Except for one night, where he didn’t. It was a Sunday evening, and he had not one but  _ two _ finals the next day. The third and last was scheduled for Wednesday—during his usual shift, so he had to leave early—and then he’d be done for the semester. This was it: crunch time was upon him.

He was in the zone, books spread out across the table in the back, and Ignis was going about his closing routine. “Prompto,” he said eventually, and Prompto looked up and sighed. 

“That time, huh? Alright alright, just give me a minute to pack up here.” 

“Actually, no. I was just going to tell you that I’m stepping out for a few minutes, but I’ll be back shortly.”

“Oh. Okay then?” 

Ignis left, locking up behind him. Prompto checked his phone and frowned slightly: 6:03, past closing time and everything had been sorted for the day. But Ignis wasn’t kicking him out yet? He stared at the door for a moment, befuddled, then shrugged and went back to his work. 

As promised, Ignis returned within ten minutes. He strode over to the back of the shop where Prompto sat, two coffee cups in hand, and set one down on the table. 

“All right. Let’s get down to business. How may I help?”

Prompto blinked at him for a moment, looking between the coffee and Ignis. “Wait—really? You wanna help me study?”

“It would be my pleasure to help you study.” Ignis smiled, and Prompto fell in love all over again.

“Gosh...that’s so nice of you! I mean...yeah! You can quiz me!” 

“Certainly,” Ignis replied, taking the seat across from him. “But first, why don’t we order something to eat?” 

They settled on sushi—“It’s brain food,” Prompto insisted—and got to work as they waited for it to be delivered. The coffee was just the pick-me-up Prompto needed, but even better was having someone as intelligent and supportive as Ignis to keep him on task: as always, his mind was apt to wander and he had trouble focusing for long periods of time, but Ignis would refocus him every time. 

When the food arrived, they took a break and had a good laugh about the obnoxious woman today who had asked for “a fiction book about fishing” and gotten angry with Prompto for finding just that, only for her precocious six-year-old daughter to explain the difference between fiction and non-fiction. (“I bet she’d go to this sushi restaurant and tell them off when they didn’t serve her fish tacos.”) Prompto tried to repay his share of the dinner, and Ignis wouldn’t let him.

And when the work resumed, no matter how unpleasant the actual task, Ignis made it doable just by being there. Prompto confessed his issue of test anxiety, and found reassurance in the breathing exercise Ignis guided him through. Whenever his mind would wander, Ignis would steer him back in the right direction. And when he collapsed onto the table with a groan and declared that he couldn’t go on any longer, Ignis went into his office and retrieved his secret stash of leftover Halloween chocolates.

It was nearly one A.M. when they called it a night, Prompto letting out a surprised yelp when he saw the time. 

“I-I mean, this isn’t late for me, but you didn’t have to stay with me this long!”

“It’s quite all right,” Ignis reassured him. “I’m just glad I was able to help. I could tell you needed it.” 

“That’s for sure! I would’ve been  _ totally _ lost without you,” Prompto insisted as he packed up all his papers and books, then bundled himself up in his coat and scarf. 

“Well, I wouldn’t go  _ that _ far. You’ve survived without me for this long.” 

“Sure, I guess.” Prompto hoisted his backpack onto his back, then turned to face Ignis. “But I’m way better off now than I was before.” 

He watched Ignis’ expression soften, searching his eyes for the affection he so hoped was reciprocated. Some small, overly-hopeful part of him thought he saw it, thought perhaps it was meant in the same way...but he couldn’t be sure, and he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself. So he smiled, tugged on the straps of his bag, and said “Thanks for everything, Iggy, I really appreciate it,” before turning and heading for the door. 

“Hang on—will you be able to get back to campus safely? I can drop you off,” Ignis offered.

“Nah, I’m fine,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s really not a long walk.”

“Honestly Prompto, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks man, but you’ve done more than enough for me tonight.” Prompto faced him once more as he leaned with his back against the door, unlocking the deadbolt with a quick sideways glance and then shooting one last grin at Ignis. “Just pray for me to get through tomorrow, yeah? I’m gonna need it.” 

“You’ll do just fine,” Ignis assured him. Prompto offered him a wave in farewell, then pushed through the door into the cold night air. He probably should’ve taken up the offer of a ride, he thought, tugging his scarf up to his nose and shivering, but at least the brisk November air would clear his mind. He needed to be singularly focused on the exam that began in less than twelve hours, not the way a smile from Ignis was enough to stop his breath.

It was a lost cause. Utterly hopeless. 

* * *

The exams arrived, and the world didn’t end. Prompto made it through one, and then a second, and felt as though he honestly did okay. And when Wednesday arrived, and Ignis so graciously allowed him to skip work to spend the morning cramming, he wound up surviving the third and last one as well. 

He pushed through the door of the shop on Thursday with a broad grin stretching his face, throwing a hand up in triumph. “Guess who’s done with his second-to-last college semester?”

Ignis looked over from where he’d been shelving, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm. I haven’t the foggiest. Is it Noct?” 

“Ha! Nope, Noct has a final this afternoon. It’s  _ me!!” _ He bounced on the balls of his feet, barely able to conceal his excitement. 

“Goodness, I never would’ve guessed. Made it through in one piece, did you?”

“Sure did! Thank you, thank you, hold your applause!” Prompto took a dramatic sweeping bow, laughing as he came up from it. “Man, what a relief. I can’t wait to just kick back, sell some books, and enjoy the rest of the holiday season.”

Ignis smiled, then nodded his head at the large envelope tucked under his arm. “What have you got there?”

“Oh! I wanted to show you these.” Prompto headed over to the back table, beckoning for Ignis to come with him. “Remember when I told you about my portfolio review, and how I needed a connecting theme? Well...I found one.” 

Nerves fluttered in his stomach, suddenly—he had been eager to show Ignis, but what if he was unimpressed, or only pretended to like them? But it was too late now, and so he opened the folder and spread the printed photographs across the table.

“This isn’t the whole portfolio, but, um...it’s most of it.” 

They were pictures of the bookshop. A few of just the storefront, the displays, the books, all artfully arranged—he was particularly proud of one that captured the setting autumn sun glinting off the front window—but most were of the people inside. Candids of customers browsing (all of whom had given their consent), with others posed enthusiastically. There was a particularly nice one of regular customer Jared sunken into the overstuffed armchair in the back, with his grandson perched atop his lap and the two eagerly engrossed in a chapter book. There was even one of Noctis, from when he’d come to visit on Prompto’s birthday.

And of course, there were pictures of Ignis—three of them, and Prompto’s favorites of the whole lot. The first one that he’d taken, when Ignis was wrapping books for the trick or treat project. Another captured him adjusting something in the window display, only he’d looked up to gaze at the pouring rain outside, raindrops reflected in his glasses. In the third, he was visible through a large gap in the books from the other side of a shelf, glancing sideways at the camera with those piercing green eyes, a smirk adorning his lips.

Ignis stared at them all for a long moment, picking one up every now and then to examine it. Prompto watched him, quiet, nervous. 

“Prompto, these are…” 

“They’re not that exciting, I know,” he laughed, cutting Ignis off. “I mean, I think some of them came out pretty nice. The review went really well actually! My professor said something about how I captured  _ “the enchantment of reading” _ or whatever. It’s a nice aesthetic at least. And this place really means a lot to me, so it felt like the right thing to focus on, but I’m still not sure if I really did it justice you know? But I thought maybe you might--” 

“...They’re beautiful.” Ignis’ gaze turned to him, stunning him into silence. “You captured the essence of everything I love about Libra. Would you allow me to make copies of these?”

Prompto only blinked for a moment, too surprised to respond right away. Ignis thought they were beautiful. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, a wide smile spreading across his face. 

“Actually, I printed these specifically for you. In case you wanted them. They’re all yours!”

“Thank you,” Ignis said, looking back to the photos. He was smiling, too. “I’ll cherish them.”

“And of course, I have digital copies too. So I was thinking, maybe we could start up a social media page for this place, post a few promotional pictures, get the word out. I know business has been slow, but that could be a big help!” 

Ignis looked surprised at that. “We?” 

“Well...yeah! I’m not leaving any time soon, man. You’re stuck with me!” 

“Hm. I suppose I am.” He seemed perfectly willing to accept the notion, and that was enough for Prompto. “And I think that’s a marvelous idea. Would you like to be at the helm of that?”

“Iggy, I’d be honored.” He looked at the spread-out pictures and found the one of himself, the one that Ignis had taken, and tapped on it. “I couldn’t include this as one of the ones I took, obviously. But I thought you might want a copy, in case you wanted to start up an “Employee of the Month” wall.” 

Ignis laughed, picking up the photo he’d taken, and Prompto wondered if it was a trick of the light that his cheeks suddenly took on the slightest bit of color. It must have been. 

“Well, you’ve certainly earned it. Despite your rather stiff competition, that is.” 

“Aw, shucks,” Prompto grinned, “little old me? It couldn’t be!” 

Ignis carefully slipped the photos back into the envelope, thanking Prompto once more, and brought them into his office. Prompto had trouble holding back a smile for the rest of the day, thinking of Ignis’ approval, and even Ignis seemed to be in a particularly sunny mood. Most people wouldn’t want to spend their first day of freedom at the end of a semester at work, but Prompto found there was nowhere else he’d rather be.


	7. a dazzling haze, a mysterious way

That evening, minutes after Prompto had left for the day, Ignis received a text from Noctis.

_hey. still at work right?_

_Yes. Prompto just left but I’m here for another hour._

_ok cool I’m downtown rn. gonna stop by in a few.  
_ _want anything from Lil Tony’s?_

Noctis was there fifteen minutes later, to-go bag in hand. “I didn’t know there was such a thing as a chicken caesar pizza, but I don’t know why I’m surprised that you choose the slice that has _lettuce_ on it.” His nose wrinkled in disgust as he pulled it out of the bag, setting it down on the counter.

“You know, I’m fairly certain no one has ever died from eating a vegetable.” Ignis came over from where he’d been tidying up in the last aisle, appraising the slice appreciatively: it looked delicious. Noct was crazy.

“And I’m willing to bet you’re wrong about that.” Noctis took out his own slice, which was loaded with mac & cheese, and sat himself down at the back table. “Choking hazards are no joke, Specs.”

“Always with the excuses.” Ignis tsked and shook his head. “Well thank you for dinner, anyway. What brings you downtown this evening?” 

“Just rewarding myself with some Tony’s after a hard-fought final,” Noctis said, halfway through chewing.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ignis scolded, automatic.

“Whatever you say, mom.” He finished chewing his next bite, swallowed, then went on. “Stopped by cause I wanted to ask if you have any plans for tomorrow.” 

“Funny you should ask. I actually had a half-baked idea myself. Does yours involve coming downtown?” 

Noctis nodded. “We’ve spent way too much time stuck on campus, but the semester is done. I wanted to get out, go to a few bars, celebrate being finished. Thought you might wanna join us.”

Ignis eyed Noct for a moment as he chewed his own slice, wondering. For as close as they were, Noctis didn’t usually invite him to bars with his college friends, even though he knew almost all of them. Perhaps things were different now that he knew one more than before.

“I could be persuaded,” he said, even though the thought of spending time with Prompto outside of work meant that he already was. “But before the bars, perhaps you all could stop here first.” 

“Here? Libra?” Noctis frowned skeptically. “Weird request. Why?”

“Have you seen Prompto’s portfolio?”

He seemed even more perplexed at the transition. “Of course I have. He’s been working on it all semester.”

“He gave me a number of prints today, and...well, frankly, I was touched. I thought I might return the favor somehow.”

Noctis nodded along as he explained the details. It wasn’t particularly elaborate: all it required was some frames and a trip to the liquor store. A small gesture, but one which he thought might mean something to Prompto. Noct seemed to agree, as indicated by his slow smile.

“That sounds awesome, Ignis. I bet he’d really appreciate that. And turning it into a way to pregame before heading out? Works perfectly.”

“Glad you think so.” Ignis finished his slice, thinking through the set-up: he’d have to pick up some things in the morning. He went to the bathroom to wash the grease off of his hands, and when he came back, he found that Noctis was watching him.

“Hey, Iggy. Can I ask you something?”

“Certainly.”

“This thing you’re doing, setting it up for Prompto. Are you sure it’s just about “returning the favor” or whatever?” He made air quotes with his fingers, a skeptical look in his eyes.

Ignis frowned, his brow furrowing. Was Noct really about to go there? “Well, I suppose not entirely. They’re lovely photos, and I’d want to put them up anyway.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Then perhaps you should just say what you mean instead of making implications.”

He sighed then, getting up to throw out his plate and grab a few napkins from the bag. “Look, he’s never actually said this to me. But if I know anything about Prompto, I know he’s pretty smitten with you.”

For a moment, Ignis just stared at him. He’d suspected—and, on some level, hoped—that that could be true. But it was a delicate thing, this balancing act between them. Ignis could never live with himself if he’d made an assumption based on Prompto’s naturally affectionate nature, an assumption that turned out to be incorrect and made Prompto uncomfortable enough to leave for good. 

But if he was right? What then? What did he really want out of this? 

“What...makes you say that?”

Noctis shrugged. “I dunno...lots of things. He finds reasons to talk about you, constantly. And when he does, he lights up. You can see it in his eyes.” He leaned against a shelf, arms crossed. “Plus he daydreams, like, all the time. Just stares off into space, with the same look in his eyes that he had when he met Aranea sophomore year.”

Ignis felt his stomach do a backflip. He cleared his throat and turned away, shielding himself from Noct’s piercing gaze. 

He thought back to two weeks earlier, when they’d had that moment. When he’d wanted to kiss Prompto. That sudden, frightening urge had not subsided since then—if anything, it had only grown stronger. He wanted to kiss Prompto, and he wanted to hold Prompto’s hand, and he wanted to card his fingers through Prompto’s hair. He wanted to spend time together, somewhere new, and he wanted to hear about Prompto’s past, his secrets, his fears. He wanted...Prompto. All of him. 

It was a sensation he was largely unused to. Feelings like these were something to be avoided: they had no regard for rationality, and contained a vulnerability that he couldn’t stand. But years of self-isolating had worn on him. He had difficulty admitting it, but he was lonely. At work, at home, out in the world: always alone, even if others were around.

Then Prompto had come into his life, and work wasn’t so lonely anymore. Maybe it could be more than just work.

And if Prompto wanted the same things...felt the same way...

Noctis watched Ignis with uncharacteristic patience, leaving the silence between them unbroken as Ignis thought on how to answer.

“I...may have an ulterior motive in tomorrow night’s activities,” he finally admitted, slowly. He couldn’t look Noctis in the eyes, busying himself by wiping down the counter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Noctis grin. “Damn. So it’s legit, huh? You and Prompto. Who’d have thought.”

“I don’t need the commentary,” Ignis huffed. “What I do need is a hand in setting this up.” He went into the storage room and came out a moment later with a box of string lights, which he dropped at Noct’s feet. “If you would be so kind.”

Noctis was still grinning, and Ignis wanted to smack him. “How often does a guy get to play wingman to both of his best friends at once? Whatever you need Specs, you got it.” He rose to his feet and grabbed at the strands in handfuls, getting to work at untangling them. “Man, this is gonna be adorable.”

“I _said_ knock it off, or we’ll see about that “best friend” claim.”

Noct laughed, decidedly not knocking it off. “You’d miss me too much. Anyway, all I’m doing is helping. I don’t see what you’re getting so worked up over.” 

Ignis groaned, grabbing one end of the lights and finding the right spot to start stringing them up. He was going to have to brace himself for quite a lot of this nonsense from Noct—and their other friends, even—if tomorrow night went as planned. But, well. Perhaps it would be worth it.


	8. all's well that ends well to end up with you

“We’re going into town tonight,” Noctis announced on Friday.

“Good morning to you too,” Prompto laughed, caught off guard. “I’m great, how ‘bout you? Oh, what was that? You want to know if I’m free to hang out tonight? Sure thing, thanks for asking!”

“I didn’t ask ‘cause you’ve got no choice in the matter. We’re celebrating the end of the semester, period.” He looked up from his phone to shoot Prompto a smirk. “Plus, I know you would’ve said yes anyway.”

“Duh.”

In an unusual turn of events, Noctis was the one who arranged everything. He messaged the girls—Luna and Iris—and even thought to invite Aranea, who had her own group of friends but hung out with them sometimes. Iris was only a freshman, but she was yet another family friend of Noct’s along with her older brother Gladio. Luna had been charmed by Iris and essentially “adopted” her, and with his sister in the picture, Gladio began to join them more often despite already being out of school himself. 

The girls wanted to head out early and start the evening off by getting dinner that wasn’t campus food, and Prompto was more than fine with that suggestion. They settled on Noct’s favorite ramen place (“I promise you Gladio, it’s so much better than Cup Noodles”) and agreed to meet at 6. 

“Why don’t we invite Ignis, too?” 

Noct didn’t look over, still texting. “I asked, but he said he’s working late tonight, sorting out some things at Libra.” 

“Oh.” Prompto tried to mask his disappointment. “Well...maybe he could meet us at the bar after?”

“Maybe,” Noct said with a noncommittal shrug, “but he’s not a big bar person. I wouldn’t count on it.” 

It wasn’t what Prompto wanted to hear: this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to ease into spending time with Ignis outside of work. But he put on his best smile and tried not to let it put a damper on his evening. He would have a great time with his friends, regardless. 

And dinner did turn out to be a real treat. There was a special exuberance that came from the triumph of finishing school, from the promise of an entire month off, and everyone was in the highest of spirits. The food was amazing, but the company really made it special. 

“Admit it, Gladio,” Noct insisted as they left the restaurant and started down the sidewalk. “It was better.”

“It was good,” Gladio said, “and I’ll leave it at that.” 

“Awww come on Gladdy,” Iris giggled, latching onto his arm as they walked. “You can be honest with us! We promise not to hold it against you!” 

“...For long,” Prompto went on. “You know. Only for like a year or two, or five.”

“I _said_ it was good, and that’s all I’m saying. Don’t try me.”

Aranea laughed, glancing over at Gladio. “As much as I love teasing you nerds, I’d rather not start my winter break off with fisticuffs when you all push the big guy over the edge.” She paused for just a moment, then amended: “Actually, maybe I would. That sounds kinda fun.” 

Luna said “Come now, no one’s fighting anyone,” at the same time as Prompto added: “My money’s on Gladio against all of us.” 

He then stopped suddenly, puzzled. “Wait a sec—where are we going? I thought we were gonna head back to campus to pregame before the bar.” 

“We could do that,” Noctis shrugged, “but I got a better offer.”

Prompto opened his mouth to ask, but cut himself off when his eyes traveled further down the street and landed on the storefront of Libra. 

“Hanging out in a bookshop,” Aranea said with a sigh. “Like I said. _Nerds_.” 

“Guess you must be one too,” Gladio shot back.

They came to a stop at the door, Prompto still quite befuddled by the notion—it was past closing time, so the shop was locked up. From here, he could see that Ignis had strung strands of softly twinkling white lights in the window display and along many of the shelves, and immediately felt a pang of guilt that he wasn’t there to help, despite it being his day off.

Noctis rapped impatiently on the glass as everyone stood in a shivering huddle. “Come on Iggy, it’s cold out here!” 

Ignis came out from behind a shelf and approached the door, and Prompto’s heart did a little somersault. He was wearing a green sweater the same shade as his eyes, and it looked fantastic on him. But more importantly, seeing him at all—when he’d already resigned himself to the disappointment of a night without him—was enough to send a rush of warmth through his freezing limbs.

Ignis stopped on the other side of the glass, fixing Noctis with a wry look. “Ask more politely, and perhaps I’ll consider letting you in.”

Noct huffed, but Luna gently pushed him aside and smiled her sweetest smile. “Dearest Ignis, would you please unlock the door?”

“But of course, Miss Lunafreya.” 

Placated, Ignis opened up and everyone piled inside, letting out sighs of relief at the warm air. He greeted them all, but Prompto felt strangely bashful when their eyes met.

“Good evening, Prompto.” The corners of his lips turned up—a smile that Prompto felt (hoped, wished) was only meant for him.

“Hey, Iggy,” he answered, forcibly swallowing his nerves. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight. Noct said you were busy?”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Noct said that, did he? Well, I suppose it did take some time to set this up.”

“Oh, I love this one!!” 

Prompto turned, attention caught by Iris’ declaration, and stopped short. He’d been so wrapped up in Ignis that he hadn’t immediately recognized what else had changed besides the lights, but it hit him full force now.

His photos were on display. 

They were everywhere. Some were in little easel frames, stacked atop books and displays. Some were in temporary cardstock frames, mounted onto the ends of shelves. Some were in big sleek frames, hanging from the walls. These in particular looked like they were meant to be permanent fixtures. Like they were going to stay, forever.

Prompto looked around at them all, struck into silence. His friends were wandering about the store, examining and admiring, voicing their approval now and then. He stepped up to the nearest one, picked it up, as if to make sure it was real. And then he looked back to Ignis, who was watching him.

He only stared for a moment, clutching the frame in his hands, searching for the right words. Only two came to mind.

“...Thank you.” 

Ignis shook his head. “No, thank _you_. The impact you’ve had on this place...” He paused momentarily, looking like he had more to say. 

“Hey, I was told there’d be booze.” 

Aranea’s intrusion came from the other side of the store, where Gladio grunted in approval. Noctis ducked behind the counter and into Ignis’ office a moment later, which elicited a tsk of disapproval from Ignis—no one else could’ve gotten away with doing so. 

“Jackpot,” Noct announced, returning with a bottle of champagne and a few bottles of wine. Prompto looked to Ignis with raised brows, who only smiled and shrugged in response. And then he went over to help, leaving Prompto feeling like there was something incomplete between them.

Gladio snorted, eyeing the bottles. “Getting all fancy on us, huh Iggy? You know, a couple of beers would’ve done the trick.” 

“I think it’ll be nice not drinking like a college student, for once!” Iris caught Gladio’s look of disapproval, then added: “I mean...not that I ever drink!” She clasped behind her back and she flashed him her most innocent grin. 

Luna helped Ignis distribute seven disposable champagne flutes—“Damn, you really are trying to out-class all of us,” Aranea scoffed—and Noctis held his up.

“To making it through,” he said.

“To one last semester before graduation,” Prompto added.

“To Luna’s _amazing_ dissertation,” Iris piped up. 

“And to Prompto slaying his portfolio review,” Gladio smiled.

Everyone began to chime in with something more to add, stepping all over each other’s words in their excitement.

“To being a little classy for once.”

“To a _whole month_ of vacation!”

“To good books.”

“To that fantastic ramen we just had.”

“To Gladio’s biceps.”

“To Libra Elementia!”

“To nerds, the lot of you.” 

“To _friendship!!”_

They all clinked their fake glasses together a good three or four times more than necessary, their laughter just as sparkling and bubbly as the champagne. Prompto downed the drink, his nose automatically scrunching up in response: admittedly, he wasn’t much of a fan. Luna caught the look on his face and smiled in knowing amusement. 

“What type of wine do you like best, Prompto?” 

“Whichever’s the sweetest,” he told her with a sheepish grin. 

“Ah. Of course.” Luna looked over to the bottles on the counter, then pointed to the one on the end. “I think that riesling will probably sit a little better with you,” she said, then patted his arm.

“And you continue to be the smartest gal I know.” He grinned at her appreciatively before heading over and helping himself. 

Or attempting to, anyway.

“Hey, uh...who knows how to uncork a bottle of wine?”

Thankfully, there were others more competent than Prompto. The bottles were opened, the wine poured, and stern warnings issued by Ignis about so much as _touching_ a book with wine in hand. Conversations began to emerge, splintering the group into two or three or smaller ones: and Prompto found himself, quite suddenly, caught in the middle of a heated debate between Gladio and Aranea about some sports team.

He did his best to chime in, but wasn’t nearly as interested or informed. His eyes kept flickering over, instead, to where Ignis and Luna were deep in conversation about something he couldn’t quite hear. Ignis caught his gaze once, after several extended glances, and Prompto nearly choked on the wine he’d just sipped. 

It wasn’t his smoothest moment, and he spent the next few minutes angled away from him to hide his reddened cheeks. But as he stood there, only half-listening to a conversation he had no bearing in, frustration began to gnaw at him. He felt as though he were caught in limbo, unsure of where he and Ignis really stood, and tonight was the perfect opportunity to try and figure it out. How could he let it slip by?

Thankfully, the nature of such gatherings was such that people began to migrate, and conversations shifted. Iris declared that she was tired of standing and threw herself into one of the overstuffed armchairs, beckoning her brother over to join her. Noctis went over to the counter to refill his cup, and then wound up joining the conversation with Ignis and Luna. Prompto moved over to change the song on the radio, eyes darting over to the group, looking for his window of opportunity—but someone caught his arm before he could find it.

“Hey, blondie. You feeling alright?” Aranea was suddenly at his side, fixing him with those green eyes that had struck him so in their sophomore year. “Maybe I’m seeing things, but I feel like you’ve been a little squirrely tonight.” 

“Who, me? Squirrely?” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, you know me. I’ve always been a nutcase! ...Heh. Get it? Nut? Like, squirrels?” 

Aranea stared back at him with her patented deadpan look. “Well you’re right about one thing, at least. Anyway, you’re deflecting. I know something’s on your mind. Spill.” 

He was at a loss as to how to respond, his usual ability to make up quick excuses suddenly abandoning him when he needed it most. Even worse was the way his eyes betrayed him as he fumbled for something to say, darting over to land on Ignis, lingering for a second too long—and Aranea followed his line of sight. A slow smile spread across her face.

“Oh, _now_ I see. One of _those_ problems, huh?” 

“Wh—” Prompto sputtered. “One of—what now? I, it’s not…” He huffed at the smirk on her face. “I mean it! It’s not like I...” And then a defeated sigh, as words continued to fail him. “...Only a little?”

“Wow. That is freaking adorable.” She was straight up grinning, and Prompto’s cheeks were burning up. “You know, I had a suspicion. You spend a _lot_ of time here.”

“Um, duh...I work here.” 

“And when you’re on campus,” she went on, crossing her arms, “you’re always finding some reason to bring up work, or Ignis, or both.” She looked over at Ignis, eyeing him appraisingly. “He’s not _my_ type, but I can totally see the appeal.” 

“Hey—!” Prompto looked around frantically, then lightly pushed her shoulder. “Keep it down, would you??”

Aranea waved him off. “Please, no one’s listening.” She did oblige, however, lowering her voice despite everyone else being absorbed in their own conversations. “So let me guess. You’re too chickenshit to make a move because you don’t know how he feels.” 

“Well yeah, duh.” Prompto ran a hand over his face, hardly believing he was having this talk out loud right now, with one of his former crushes of all people. 

But on the other hand, a part of him was relieved to get it off his chest: and besides Noct, Aranea had somehow become his greatest confidant. She was the first person he’d come out to, last year. She was blunt, sure—but beneath the tough exterior, she was surprisingly supportive. 

He lowered his voice, staring down at his feet. “I don’t even know if he...y’know. Likes dudes.”

Aranea softened at that, like she always did when things got serious. “Sure, that’s valid. But did you seriously not think to ask your best buddy Noct, who’s known him since childhood? It’s not like he would judge you.”

Prompto scoffed, even knowing that she was right. “Of course he wouldn’t, but can you imagine how awkward that would be? Soooooo awkward!” 

“More awkward than things are now, not knowing?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Damnit. “How are you always right?” he grumbled.

“It’s a gift,” she shrugged, smirking again. “But for real, I think you should talk to him. Shoot your shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um, he turns me down and things get super awkward and he hates me forever?”

“Then you cut your losses and find a new job. But between you and me—” She looked to Ignis, then back to Prompto, smiling. “I don’t think that’ll be the case.” 

He couldn’t help but smile back, lit by a glimmer of hope. Aranea had a pretty good sense about this kind of thing, so…well, maybe it was possible. Either way, her words of encouragement were appreciated, and he told her so.

She wrinkled her nose and punched him on the arm, teasingly. “Don’t go all soft on me, now. Just focus on your mission.” 

“Right. Yeah.” He took a deep breath, nodding once. 

Before he could proceed, Aranea was turning around and calling out: “Hey, Luna. Wanna see something cool?” And that’s when he knew that Aranea truly had his back: she and Luna had absolutely nothing in common, but she was opening up a window for him.

He took it gratefully, watching Aranea lead Luna to the back of the store and then gracefully sliding into her spot. Score. Noct was in the middle of a sentence, and he immediately started nodding in agreement like he’d been there all along. 

Ignis turned his gaze on Prompto as Noct kept talking, and god, Prompto really prayed that he wasn’t imagining the warmth that filled his eyes. Like...like he was just as happy that Prompto had joined them.

It turned out they had been discussing holiday plans, and Prompto was more than happy to join in. The itchy feeling of needing to _do_ something began to subside, despite the fact that he and Ignis never got a moment alone: even when Noct wandered off to the bathroom, they were suddenly joined by a chipper Iris, who was full of questions for Ignis about running a bookshop. But Prompto didn’t mind: he was content to just share in his presence, watching him fondly as he explained the intricacies of organizing genre fiction. 

For a moment, Prompto simply took it all in. Aranea sitting atop the table in the back, somehow sucked into a genuine conversation with Luna, who could make even a brick wall feel special and appreciated. Noct, back from the bathroom, joking with Gladio over by the romance section. The slightest buzz from the wine, adding a strange lightness to everything. The twinkling lights, which seriously made the shop cozier than he’d ever seen it before—and his photos all around, leaving his mark on this place that had somehow come to mean so much to him.

And of course, his two newest friends right in front of him, who had already found a place in his heart: though, admittedly, in vastly different ways. 

It had taken Prompto eighteen years to find a real family. Eighteen years, and then Noct came into his life. Noct already had a family: a loving father, Ignis, Gladio, Iris. But now Prompto was part of it, too. A real, true member, especially now that he’d come to know Ignis as well. And maybe that’s all it would be, and he could live with that. 

But before too long, the wine ran out, and the decision was made that it was time to head out to the bars. And the peace Prompto had been feeling at that thought flew out the window, replaced by a renewed franticness as everyone got their coats.

“You’re coming, right?” He asked Ignis, perhaps a little more eagerly than he’d meant to, recalling Noct’s assertion that Ignis wasn’t big on going to bars. “I mean, are you?” 

Ignis seemed surprised at the question. “I suppose I hadn’t decided. Should I?”

“Of course you should!” Prompto winced internally as soon as he’d exclaimed it: truly, containing his excitement had never been his forte. He tried again, more casually: “It would be so much better with you there. I, for one, am looking forward to your inner party animal making a triumphant arrival.”

It wasn’t the best cover, but Ignis was smiling with some amusement. “Well I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, in that case. But if you insist, then perhaps I’ll come along anyway.” 

“I do insist!”

“Very well then.” Everyone else was all bundled up by then, standing around by the door, and Ignis waved a hand. “You lot can go on, I just have to straighten up first. Text me where you wind up and I’ll join you shortly.”

Prompto saw his opportunity, and he seized it tight. “I’ll stay and help!”

Ignis eyed him, but didn’t protest. The rest of the group headed out, with Noct promising to text the name of the bar; Aranea departed with a not-so-subtle wink flung in Prompto’s direction, which Ignis was thankfully facing away from. Talk about embarrassing. 

“Look,” Iris gasped as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, “look! It’s starting to snow!”

And Prompto, who knew few greater delights than the first snow of the season, was too overwhelmed to care.

It was only the work of a few minutes: throwing the empty cups and bottles into a trash bag and taking it out, wiping down the counter and table, locking the office, turning off the radio. Little things. But they did it in silence, while Prompto’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. His moment had arrived, but he was overcome with fear. And so he did what he could to help, quiet, and then stood by the front window, hugging his arms around himself and staring out at the soft white flakes falling from the sky. He was waiting for Ignis to give the all-clear, so he could grab his coat and go. Maybe he’d get another chance. Maybe he needed to drink a little more. Maybe he’d just continue to chicken out forever.

He didn’t anticipate that Ignis would suddenly be at his side, crossing his arms and looking out at the snow as well. “The first snowfall,” he remarked. “Always a lovely sight.” 

“There’s something magical about it,” Prompto agreed, his pulse quickening with Ignis standing so close. The overhead lights were shut off, leaving only the warmly shimmering string lights still glowing around them.

“I seem to recall you saying that you hated the winter,” Ignis said, and Prompto could _hear_ the wry smile in his tone.

“I never said I _hated_ it,” he protested. “You know me. I’m not really the type of person who can _hate_ anything.”

“I do know you,” Ignis agreed. His voice was low, and...tender. Or so Prompto imagined, anyway. It was enough to make him turn from the window, looking up at Ignis, who was already watching him. There was an intensity to his gaze that sent a shockwave down Prompto’s spine.

Prompto opened his mouth, reaching for the words he was so desperate to find, grasping for a way to tell him. But with Ignis standing there, right in front of him, _right there,_ he could hardly breathe. 

“Iggy,” he managed. “I think...I’ve been…” 

He stopped, inhaled, tried again. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something. Well, ask you something. Because, the thing is...getting this job is the best thing that’s happened to me since, well. Since meeting Noct, freshman year. And like, you know I’m not a crazy big reader or anything. So it’s not the books. I mean, the books are cool too! This place is cool, really cool. I love it here, actually. But the main reason I love it is—”

“Prompto,” Ignis said, soft.

But Prompto had gotten started, and now he couldn’t stop. “—is you. I mean, obviously. I love the time we spend together, every minute of it. I love the absurd banter we have. I love how you can read my mind somehow. I love the way you do that eyebrow thing when I say something dumb, and I love that you never make me feel dumb. I love what we have here. And…”

“Prompto,” he said again.

“...and I would never want to risk it,” Prompto went on, speaking too quickly as the words tumbled out of his mouth, eyes averted. “I would never want to make things weird, or mess up what we’ve got. Which is why I’ve been so hesitant, so terrified to even think about doing something that might push you away. But...and maybe I’m crazy, but I just had this feeling that...that maybe…”

It was the fingertips that settled on his chin, tilting his head up, that finally got him to stop. He inhaled sharply at the contact, eyes going wide.

“Prompto,” Ignis tried one last time, nearly a whisper. “May I kiss you?”

His heart stopped, then started again. The words were gone, completely gone from his head. All he could do was nod, yes. Gods, _yes_. 

So Ignis kissed him. His hand moved up to his cheek, the other coming as well to cup his face, and he kissed him: delicate, careful, soft. For a moment, Prompto was at a loss: completely overwhelmed by the brush of his lips, the warmth of his hands. For a moment, he couldn’t believe it was real. But his own hands responded first, settling on Ignis’ arms, sliding up to his shoulders. He leaned into the kiss, leaned up onto his toes and pressed back, insistent, wanting. And suddenly Ignis was gripping his waist, instead, pulling him somehow closer, and he felt as though liquid sunshine was flowing through his veins.

Ignis drew back to breathe, a quiet gasp. Mere inches separated their faces still, eyes locked. The only sound was their breathing.

He realized, then, that Ignis was smiling. A small smile, barely there at first, but one which lit up his whole face. Prompto couldn’t hold it back anymore: he laughed. 

“Oh my god,” he said, because what else could he say? And he laughed, and buried his face in Ignis’ chest, cheeks burning red, and laughed some more. Then Ignis was laughing, and his hands moved from Prompto’s waist around to his back, arms fully encircling him and holding him close. 

“Oh my god,” Ignis agreed, alarmingly inelegant, and Prompto felt as though his heart was going to burst from being too full. 

They stayed like that for some time—in Prompto’s opinion, not long enough—but he pulled apart anyway, capturing Ignis’ hands, holding them both tight. He was grinning, ear to ear. And Ignis was looking at him like he mattered. Like he meant something. Like he was valuable, precious, wondrous. 

“So, um. I guess that answers my question,” Prompto said. 

There was a flush to Ignis’ cheeks, so unusual for someone so composed, and Prompto realized _he_ had done that. “I guess it does,” Ignis replied.

“Well that’s a relief. Cause shit was about to get really, _really_ embarrassing if it had been a different answer.”

Ignis smirked, squeezing his hands. “Lucky for you, I would never let you suffer such embarrassment.”

“A true gentleman.” 

Both of their phones went off at once, indicating a message from Noctis—and with eerily perfect timing. Reluctantly, Prompto released their hands as another one came through. “I guess we should go catch up with our friends, huh?” 

“If we must,” Ignis sighed. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

Off he went, while Prompto pulled out his phone to check, which buzzed two more times in his hands.

_done yet?  
_ _across the street, and to your left.  
_ _I mean, right.  
_ _hurry up, it’s cold as fuck._

Puzzled, he looked out through the falling snow in the direction Noct had indicated, and his eyes landed on a huddled group of people: just far enough that neither he nor Ignis had noticed them before, but close enough that they would be able to see two people sharing a moment inside.

“Are those…?” Ignis asked, coming back with coats in hand.

“Our nosy asshole friends?” Prompto supplied, too amused at the absurdity of it all to really be annoyed. One of them—Noct, he was pretty sure—lifted a hand and waved. 

“Well then. I suppose it saves us an awkward conversation.” 

“Are you kidding?” Prompto snorted, shrugging his coat on. “They’re not gonna let it go all night. All weekend. All year!” 

“A pity,” Ignis said. “Though I wasn’t planning to let it go either.” 

Prompto paused at the door, turning around to grin at Ignis. “Good. Cause you’re not gonna get me to shut up about it.” 

He pushed the door back behind him, stepping backwards onto the sidewalk. His hand grasped Ignis’ wrist, pulling him out as well. And then, hopeless romantic that he was, he drew him all the way in and kissed him again, as the snow fell all around.

Across the street, their nosy asshole friends let out cheers and wolf whistles. Prompto laughed against Ignis’ smiling mouth, and everything was perfect. 

There was no camera flash, no picture taken to preserve the moment forever. But somehow, Prompto had a feeling he was going to hold onto it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the fantastic Jayy for such a gorgeous piece of artwork to accompany this story, isn't it beautiful? Please go check it out in high quality on twitter at https://twitter.com/jayysnest/status/1209642725060096000?s=21 and follow them @jayysnest!! And thank YOU for reading to the end, I hope you enjoyed!


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